


Telling me you love me while you're looking away

by orphan_account



Series: Please don't stand so close to me [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are voices coming from the classroom when Stiles finally walks up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, guys. Long time, no update! 
> 
> Thanks go to Hira Khan for encouraging me to continue this series. I got busy and distracted, and I'm sorry.
> 
> The title for this part of the series comes from Berlin's _No More Words_.

There are voices coming from the classroom when Stiles finally walks up. One rings with a quiet sort of authority, and another seems naturally deferent. Both are soft, yet masculine, and after a moment of listening in, their origins are easily identified. What is less easy to determine is the reason Derek is speaking with Isaac when Stiles specifically said he wished to talk when class let out for the day. It brings back some of the insecurity Stiles felt the first time he saw the two interact earlier.

When he steps into the room, however, it becomes clear that the kind of intimacy he began to fear between the two does not exist. While Isaac and Derek are standing close to each other, there is a desk between them, and the expressions on their faces are entirely devoid of any sort of desire. Instead, it looks as though Isaac is concerned about something, and Stiles can see in Isaac’s concern something similar to the brotherly affection he has for Scott. It makes him burn with curiosity in the way that he barely had time for after history ended.

What are they to each other, really? How long have they known each other? According to Derek, he just moved into his apartment. People aren’t exactly pounding the pavement in search of places to live right now - Beacon County is practically the definition of a bedroom community, and the jobs everyone should be commuting to and from each day are disappearing at a depressingly rapid rate - so it cannot have taken him long to find his new abode. What could he possibly have been doing if he met Isaac before that? Unless he knew Isaac seven years ago, which is possible, but not probable, because the likelihood of a logical reason to explain their hypothetical acquaintance back when one of them was in elementary school and the other was in high school is relatively slim.

As Stiles allows himself to get caught up in the mystery of it all, the objects of his fascination break off their discussion and turn to peer at him. Their expressions give Stiles the distinctly awkward impression that he was the topic of their truncated conversation, and he gives a nervous, lop-sided smile, as a huff of laughter falls unbidden from his lips. “Hey,” he says, drawing out the word in the way he always does when he has no idea what to say next, or if he should even continue to say anything at all.

Rather than ducking his head the way Isaac would have less than a year ago, he turns away from Derek and gives Stiles a similarly lop-sided grin of his own, wiping the concern from his eyes. “Hey, Stiles.” He pauses, running a hand through his curls in a way that is neither overtly sexual nor endearingly self-conscious - it simply is, and somehow, it works for him - before saying, “So listen, I was thinking you and I should form a study group with a few of the others - maybe Danny and Joshua?”

“Joshu- wait, you mean Greenberg?” Stiles honestly is not trying to be a jerk. He knows Joshua Greenberg, and has since kindergarten. It’s just, no one ever actually calls the guy Joshua. Not since he joined the lacrosse team in freshman year and Coach Finstock barked his surname for the first time.

Isaac chuckles a little at this, taking no offense, and Stiles begins to relax. So maybe Isaac was talking to Derek about him, or Derek was talking about him to Isaac, or they were talking about him with each other. They are clearly friends, at the very least, and friends talk about romantic encounters. It is part and parcel of the bro code. In fact, Stiles would almost say that it is required. Stiles thinks that he can trust Isaac, and he _knows_ that he trusts Derek, crazy as that may be, so what, really, is the harm?

“Yeah, I do,” Isaac confirms, bringing Stiles back to the present. “So, are you in?”

“Uh - _yeah_ , sure. I am in. Totally, totally in,” and also babbling horribly, because no matter how old he gets, he is still himself, and he is a guy who babbles. Clearing his throat, he concludes firmly, trying to save what little face he has left, “Sounds good.”

The smile he earns in response to this is almost brilliant enough to make him go for his sunglasses, and if Stiles wasn’t already completely gone for Derek Hale, he might have a problem, but he is, and he doesn’t. Instead, he nods at Isaac with a pleased look of his own, and then watches as the guy straightens and announces, “Well, now that that’s settled, I guess I should head home and get started on that mountain of paperwork we got today.”

Stiles laughs in sympathy. “And don’t forget the homework we already have for Pre-Cal and Physics. Unless your teachers aren’t sadists like mine?”

Grimacing, Isaac replies, “Uh, no, I have homework from mine, too.”

“Well, then maybe you should get on that,” Derek breaks in, sounding at once authoritative and cautious, as though he is teacher and student both - except that the analogy doesn’t really work, because the relationship between Isaac and Derek is so clearly beyond that of the traditional one existing between educators and their pupils.

In the half-second before Isaac turns to look at Derek, Stiles could swear his classmate's eyes changed colors, but how could they? Anyone would say it was a trick of the light, and he would agree with them, except that fluorescent lighting doesn’t normally turn people’s eyes red.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to forget how evil I can be until I write closing lines like the one at the end of this chapter.

An undercurrent of tension makes the air in the US History classroom sing, and Stiles stares at the tableau of Isaac and Derek, baffled by the change. Isaac stands tall, his shoulders pulled back and his feet planted firmly. His hands are open, but there is an energy that flows through them, an unknown potential, and though he cannot see it, Stiles knows that his eyes are boring into Derek’s. This is a side to his classmate that Stiles has never seen before. Up until last school year, the word “confrontational” probably wasn’t even in Isaac’s vocabulary, and even after whatever happened to make him fit so much better in his skin, he never outright challenged a teacher or anyone else higher in the social hierarchy of the school. Yet here he is, blatantly asserting his own will against Derek.

Once again, Stiles wonders about the relationship between the two of them. He thinks that will be the norm from this point on, until such a time as either of them decides to shed some light on the topic. Which may mean that he remains curious forever and ever amen, unless he does some digging. Would that be inappropriate?

Who exactly is he trying to kid? Of course he’s going to try and figure this thing between Derek and Isaac out. It’s what he does.

The silent battle of wills drags on, until finally, Derek looks down, clearing his throat. The tension gradually goes out of Isaac’s frame, and it feels as though a noose has been snapped, allowing all of them to breathe a little easier.

Tilting his head, Isaac tells Derek, “Maybe you’re right,” before he turns to smile at Stiles, as though that will somehow erase the past few minutes. Stiles wants to tell him that it is a wasted effort, but he gets the sense that announcing that would only make things more uncomfortable for everyone involved, and so he bites down on the impulse the way he has had to for most of his life and smile back. People tend to believe that Stiles always acts without thinking things through, that he has no control over himself. They would be shocked to realize exactly how hard he works to filter his less socially acceptable reactions. He shakes the thought off and focuses on what Isaac is saying now. “So I guess I’ll call you about the study group after I talk to Joshua and Danny?”

As in an actual phone call, where they speak to each other like the social creatures they are supposed to be, rather than texting like most people do these days? Stiles blinks. He’s not sure he remembers the last time he talked to someone other than his dad or Scott or the pizza delivery people over the phone. Could it really have been two months ago, when Heather called to demand that he “put down that stupid controller and come hang out” with her? He thinks it might be. He makes a mental note to call his childhood friend at some point over the coming weekend. Two months is too long.

And he should probably say something now, since Isaac is still watching him expectantly. “Yeah. Yes. Sounds like a plan.”

Digging a hand into his pants pocket, Isaac pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?”

Rattling his cell phone number off, Stiles watches Isaac type it in and then return his phone to its proper place.

When he looks up, he shoots Stiles another smile, and this one seems far more sincere than the last. “Thanks. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, Stiles.” Tossing a look over his shoulder, he says in a more serious tone, “Derek.”

Derek nods, and Stiles gets the impression that there is still more being said than he can understand with his limited knowledge of the situation. Then Isaac stalks - he actually stalks, that is a thing that he does, and it probably shouldn’t look as compelling and powerful as it does, but that seems to be a theme with his classmate today, so Stiles resolves to simply file the latest tidbit away and not worry about it right this minute - out of the room, leaving Stiles alone with Derek for the second time today.

Hopefully this time, since most of the student body is gone and the teachers are all either working on lesson plans or eagerly heading home, they will be able to make some progress. Stiles pulls his eyes away from the door and over to Derek, who is still standing behind his desk.

“So,” he says, and then purses his lips lamely.

“So,” Derek parrots, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows, clearly leaving the control of this conversation in Stiles’s hands.

He may live to regret that decision, although Stiles appreciates the obvious attempt to still treat him like an equal away from observers.

“Looks like you and I have a lot to talk about.”


End file.
